Cultural death by apathy

On a chilly evening in the small east coast community of Nuhaka in the North Island of New Zealand on May 29 I queried my wife Rhonda if we had in fact underestimated the weather. The Maori International Film Festival program which we were attending identified the first event of the four-day festival as an invitation only dinner for film makers and festival patrons at the Kahununu Marae.

Standing in front of the impressive Marae as dusk shadows gave way to the dimness of night I stood proud beside Rhonda under street lighting as we anticipated out first official Maori welcome ceremony.

However, what I wasn’t prepared for on this auspicious occasion was the lingering wait we had to endure for the host to arrive. And as such the delay had to be tolerated outside the Marae perimeter as Maori protocol forbids the entry on to the Marae grounds until summoned by female elders.

And as we waited the temperature dropped sharply from low double digit figures hastily towards sub-zero readings.

As we patiently stood on the side of the road we were warmed by the generosity of spirit of the guests in the official party who greeted us with their traditional hongi (rubbing noses) greeting - not to be confused with hangi (Maori feast).

When the host finally made his entrance onto the quiet residential street of the smallish community of a couple hundred people the female elders called out for their warriors and guests to enter the grounds of the Marae.

I walked closely with the men and Rhonda took her position with the women. On entry to the Marae I was steered towards the front row of seats in the middle of the large room. As the front row filled the second row was soon taken up by other men.

I was none the wiser as to the seating arrangement but must say I felt honoured to be sitting in close proximity to the host elders facing us on the other side of the room. The seating arrangement was a mirror image of our side with men occupying the front row and women taking their place at the rear of the Marae.

Not once did the elders speak in English. The interesting process of elders speaking first (inexperienced to the most experienced), followed by their female relatives leaving their seats to stand next to him to conclude his address by singing a Maori song in unison, generated by his insightful words, was a marvellous sight and one I will always cherish.

I wanted so much to ask the gentleman sitting adjacent to me to interpret in English what was being said, or at least have him explain what the order of official business was. But in this instance I was hesitant as everyone looked so silently respectful of proceedings that I dared not speak in case I breached their cultural protocol.

All of a sudden the host elders appeared to have completed their formalities and with an acknowledging nod of his head in their direction Mayor Meng Foon of the Gisborne District Council stepped off to the right and commenced his official response in Maori, gesturing to elders and other dignitaries present in the Marae.

What troubled me even more as I sat totally unaware of what was being said, was the fact that I had only met Mayor Foon and his elegant wife, both of Chinese descent outside in the car park, and now he was on his feet speaking fluent Maori as if it was his first language. To make things even more worrying for me was that Mayor Foon concluded his long address with the customary Maori song.

As I sensed the Mayor’s song coming to an end I started to feel extremely nervous and just had to break with tradition as I sought counsel of the Maori Elder off to my right. I asked him if I was required, as the next in line in the seating order, to speak and sing.

To my relief he said that they would allow me time to get to my feet but if I chose not to take up the offer the next person in line would simply rise and step to the side and begin their address.

As the debonair Mayor took his seat I felt an uneasy nauseous feeling engulf me but discomfort soon turned to relief when the next elder in line eventually rose to speak.

The one thing I did manage to observe during the speeches in Maori was the identities of the elders and dignitaries who were being acknowledged by speakers in their introductory remarks. However there was one dignitary whose name was constantly being recognised but I couldn’t quite make out who it was as the person in question occupied a seat with the women at the back of the room.

I discovered later that it was the striking lady, splendidly attired with an unmistakeable facial tattoo (moko) on her chin, whom I met in the car park - Judge Caren Fox of the Gisborne Maori Land Court - who appeared not to be unperturbed by the seating arrangement.

When the cultural ceremony concluded we were ushered into an adjoining building to a banquet - once again served by women who took great pride in their service to the Marae’s formalities - before the evening came to an end.

The following day at a much longer Powhiri (traditional Maori welcome) for the public at the Wairoa Taihoa Marae, to officially open the film festival, we got to enjoy cultural exchanges with many of the same elders and a larger spread of youth.

To my amazement the youth also sat attentively listening and singing in Maori, when the occasion arose, throughout the long formalities. I don’t think that would happen so readily with Indigenous youth where I come from.

On this day I took advantage of an opportunity to speak to Judge Caren and her associate Marise Lant from the Maori Land Court who informed me of their work. Judge Caren told she had learnt a lot from her time visiting the Redfern Legal Service in the 1980s, when she worked for the Maori legal service.

Being aware of the demand on Judge Caren by others wanting to chat, I asked her a question I’m sure she’s fielded many times before: why did you get a moko?

Judge Caren informed me assertively that she only got her moko - a facial tattoo on her chin which represents markings from her tribe - a couple of years ago and felt she could do so in her capacity as a senior judicial figure. She said she felt comfortable in the knowledge that she had served five years on the bench before hand and knew the public wouldn’t view it as a publicity stunt.

On the same day, Rhonda and I were honoured to receive the award of Best International Indigenous Short Documentary for Nigger Lovers. Although we received prestigious awards in Australia; EnhanceTV ATOM and Inside Film awards in Melbourne and the Gold Coast respectively, this award was very special to us as it represented an acceptance by other Indigenous film makers of our contribution to the field of documentary making.

Native American film maker and academic Associate Professor Patty Loew from the University of Wisconsin who made Way of the Warrior was so impressed with our doco - she is fighting a similar battle to remove offensive mascot labels such as Redskins etc - that she informed us that she would give a private viewing of our doco to Oprah Winfrey when she met her at the convention for African American, Native American and Hispanic journalists in Chicago in July.

The Maori International Indigenous Film Festival was a memorable event that left lasting impressions on Rhonda and me. The cultural exchanges were a highlight and I believe there may well be a strong argument for Indigenous Australians to model the Marae concept in each identified community in Australia.

Further, I think the concept of adopting a single Indigenous language - out of the 300 that were spoken pre colonisation - as the accepted language for inclusion in the national curriculum is worth considering.

This should not be viewed as an insult to other active Indigenous language speakers around the nation but seen more as an opportunity for others to learn a second or third language in much the same vogue as those who learn Japanese, French or German at school.

There are about 100 Aboriginal languages in everyday use in Australia with about 50,000 people speaking an Indigenous language as their first language. Languages that I felt had potential as a language for inclusion in the national curriculum include: Yolngu (north eastern Arnhem Land) with about 6,000 speakers; Arrernte (southern and central Northern Territory) with about 3,000 speakers; and Warlpiri (central Australia) with 3,000 speakers.

I am not a fluent speaker of my language, and don’t know an elder from my large tribe (Kullilli) who is, so like the other 450,000 Indigenous Australians who fall into the same category I’d encourage our leaders to consider it as a viable option to our cultural restoration.

And then when a similar Marae concept is erected progressively around the nation we could use this new language as a means of cultural expression and transmission.

The book Te Marae: A guide to customs & protocol highlights the significance of the Marae. Only in the Marae can the high levels of wairua (spirituality), mana (prestige), and tikanga (customs) be practised in a safe environment. Here they are able to stand upon the Earth Mother and speak; express themselves, weep, laugh, hug or kiss each other. Every emotion can be expressed with others - shared not only with the living but also with those generations who have gon ki tua o te aria (beyond the veil).

Indigenous Australians in the main have failed each other, especially their children, in passing down the knowledge and respect of their ancestors - the statistics pointing to high levels of dysfunction are hard to argue with - and as such the leaders need to consider Indigenous models of cultural restoration from abroad.

Sure, Maori is a single language but like in Australia their race - up to the era of the baby boomers - were persecuted by government officials for speaking it. But today their strong advocacy of restoring pride through language reinstatement has paved the way to improved relations with the Pakea in their country.

If these radical innovations are implemented nationally in Australia we may, like the NZ Maori television station does, see a day in the next generation when the National Indigenous Television (NITV) will broadcast in the new adopted national Indigenous language and be comprehended fully by Indigenous and non-Indigenous viewers alike.

Although there will be a lot of dissention to the very mention of a single Indigenous language by our leaders I instead will seek to remedy our current crisis of cultural death by apathy and continue to follow the famous line adopted by Franklin D Roosevelt who once said: “If it fails, admit it frankly and try another. But above all, try something.”